Where I Belong
by Hopeful Obsessions
Summary: ‘If you loved me so much –’ He said, ‘Then why did you leave me?’ It was then that she wanted to cry for him – he who was still the boy under the stairs who was gentle and sweet, with hair that never really did fall flat at the back.
1. Prologue

**Where I Belong  
**_Prologue_

**Disclaimer:**  
Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JK Rowling.  
All plots and other characters belong to me.  
Harry and Hermione belong to each other.

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**He studies the woman. She is a lamb. In life, there are only two types of people: wolves and lambs.**

**- Patricia Cornwell, _A Scarpetta Novel __

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_**

The blackness of the night sky made little difference to him. In fact, he preferred the darkness to the warming light of the sun.

And the night in the dimply light area of Godric's Hollow reminded him only of what he came here to do.

'Lumos,' he whispered into the night. The light simmered around him like a fairy tale, casting dark and dangerous shadows around him and his beautiful prisoner.

Her eyes, opened wide, showed the panic in her graceful features and shimmered against the gentle light of his wand.

In the sun, her eyes were actually a bold, quite beautiful colour of blue – but the thick darkness and inescapable terror that overwhelmed her caused her to look weak and fragile. She violently shut her eyes in attempt to block out the reality in front of her. At one time, this might have excited him. Now it left him feeling angry and empty.

He had tied her up using his own two hands, which any more than able wizard might have found odd, even questionable. But this was the only thing that kept him alive anymore, and he wouldn't let that be destroyed too.

'Don't struggle, you hear me?' he whispered angrily, as the tears fell from her eyes onto the dirty ground she was laying on. She had come to Godric's Hollow everyday of her adult life, and she had never known about the clearing in the forest she now lay trapped in.

Her chest rose and fell wildly while her heart beat frantically in her chest. Her tears began to flow faster as she realized he was never going to let her go.

The man bent down and caressed her cheek with his hand. She was as cold as ice.

'Now listen to me – _listen_ to me!' he screamed, but in a quiet, threatening way. 'I want you to take a deep breath. Do not faint.' It was an order.

She inhaled shakily, still crying silent, fierce tears.

'Good, good. I'm going to take my silencing charm off of you now. Don't scream, you hear me? Because I will kill you. I'm not afraid to.'

He was serious, and she believed him.

She turned to face him, fear filling every fragment of her body. She struggled to speak. He could hear her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.

'What do you want with me?' And she said it in such a way that made him laugh in anguish.

'Listen to me, I said, and don't ask questions.'

'Please, I –'

'Shut your goddamn mouth, do you hear me?'

She nodded, tears falling down her dirt-streaked face onto her ripped white blouse.

He laughed his unbearable cold laugh again and stood over her trembling body. 'I saw you come out of that house tonight.' He motioned through the trees to a tall brick house. 'Who lives there?'

He watched her fight to lick her dry lips.

'Harry Potter.'

He stepped over her body, thinking hard. This confirmed it; everything he thought, everything he believed was true.

He kneeled beside her, his eyes flashing madly in the quiet light. 'I've been watching you, you know. You go there every night, don't you?'

She started breathing faster. 'Please…'

'Yes or no.' He said it in a way that made her silent.

'Yes.'

He chuckled and wiped a tear off of her face with his calloused finger. 'There you go, you see? I'm really not that bad of a person.' And he truly believed it. He was kind, even polite when he bound her with rope. He could have put her under the Imperius curse, could have even tortured her. But he didn't; he was too much of a gentleman for that.

Again he laughed before he started to pace the forest clearing.

'He really hasn't been well, has he? Not since the Dark Lord fell.' He smiled in a terrifying way. 'Not since she left him?'

He could see her pulse beat crazily in her throat. She swallowed hard. 'How do you know all of this?'

He paid no attention to her pleas or her tears. He kneeled again quickly and wrenched her face towards his. He could feel the warm breath on his hand. She whimpered as her breathing became even heavier.

'He still loves her doesn't he?' he asked in a low, strong baritone voice.

A tear ran down off her cheek onto his hand. 'Yes.'

'Where is she?'

'I d-don't know –'

He violently kicked her shoulder. 'Bullshit!'

'N-no, please… I don't know... Harry doesn't even know…'

At this confirmation he turned away from her so she could not see his frustration and lack of control. But the woman was not stupid, and knew what she had just admitted to him. She began to cry in earnest.

Hearing her whimpering made him grow even more furious. He stared at the woman in front of him, wondering where on earth his more wanted victim could be. She hadn't told anyone where she was?

He wished _she_ could be the one in front now, crying – begging for her release. But he shook his head.

If she was here, she wouldn't be crying or begging… she was smarter than that.

She wasn't weak.

At this the anger inside him erupted in a violent storm. 'Where is your wand?' he asked, as if this was a perfectly normal conversation.

She quickly glanced over at the spot she had foolishly dropped her wand, no less than an hour ago when he had caught her leaving Harry Potter's house.

The man was smart and able, and had thought this through. He was not going to Azkaban. Not until his master was avenged. He bent to pick up her wand, and then walked towards her again.

The man saw the glimpse of hope in her eyes – the hope that he could give her back her wand and release her.

So unwise. If _she_ had been laying there, the woman he needed most to get to, the woman he needed to find… she would not have had such optimism in her eyes at all.

He looked into the anticipating woman's hopeful eyes and he only laughed.

'Avada Kedavra.'

And suddenly her struggling stopped and her ragged breathing no longer filled the air. Her tension and trembling were gone, though the terrified look was still in her lovely blue eyes.

He left her limp body in Godric's Hollow and Apparated away – for now he knew. He was sure, and one very foolish woman's life was no price to pay. He knew now what he must do.

He had to find her – the woman who wasn't weak. The woman who wouldn't cry when he killed her.

And how he wished he knew what he did not: that Hermione Granger lay thousands of miles away on a comfortable bed, in a warm house, sleeping without a worry or a care.

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**A/N: Whew****. So here it is! Okayokay, I know it seems more... suspense than romance right now. But it really _is_ romance, I promise. Just give me a chance to prove it. Read and review andI'll post the next chapter ASAP. Teaser?**

_But that didn't mean she loved him. Just because she memorized his laugh and thought about how his hair never really laid flat at the back didn't mean she loved him. Just because she imagined he was here so she would never be lonely didn't mean she loved him. Just because she saw his face when she kissed Hugh didn't mean she loved him._

_No. Hermione Granger refused to give into something as delicate as love. Especially now. _

**Oohlala. Till next time, hunnayyys. H/Hr for always. **

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	2. One

**Where I Belong  
Chapter one; No Longer Hermione**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JK Rowling.  
All plots and other characters belong to me.  
Harry and Hermione belong to each other.**

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Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.  
-_from the television show 'The Wonder Years'

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_Even through the black velvet curtains that she hung last spring, the sunlight managed to creep up and chase the shadows off Hermione Granger's face, waking her from her peaceful and carefree sleep. 

The sunlight shone along the doctorate degrees on the walls and on the non-moving pictures on the dresser. In the small black frames there were pictures of her and Hugh; camping, smiling, and doing various other Muggle activities. If she had told herself long ago that she would be going without magic, she wouldn't have believed it.

Every picture on the wooden dresser that was now basked in light was the same: Hermione with a pushed smile on her face and of three months ago, a six-carat Harry Winston diamond on her left hand, ring finger.

The light even managed to sneak into the door of her walk-in closet, onto the dozen identical white jumpers and blue trousers. But then again, that was her. Boring, old, Hermione Granger. She would throw in predictable, but then… that wouldn't be true anymore, would it?

She slowly rubbed the sleep off her face.

_Sunlight? Already? _

_Her eyes focused lazily on the walls across the room _as she felt a strong arm wrap around her.

'Morning, honey.'

Her lips formed a grin as she turned around and she met the eyes of the completely non-magical man she lived with.

Yes, it was true. Hermione Granger lived with a Muggle. 'Good morning, Hugh.'

He jumped off of the bed, already dressed, and took a small wrapped present out of the drawer of the dresser.

'Hugh?' She asked, 'What's that for?'

He extended his arm towards her. 'A special anniversary.'

Hermione's mind raced. 'Anniversary? Hugh, we've only been going out seven months.'

Not that she'd been counting. She stopped that long ago.

'No, not ours,' She watched him say slowly as she struggled with the wrapping. 'Yours. It's officially been six years since you arrived in Manhattan from London.'

All of Hermione's thoughts and she stopped fiddling with the box as her pretty hazelnut eyes filled with tears.

_Six years…_

_Had it really been that long?_

Hugh's voice came to her as if from far away. 'Hermione? Is everything all right?'

She blinked back her tears. 'Nothing. I mean… everything. Everything is all right.' She threw the rest of the tissue to the floor and opened the small box. 'Oh Hugh, it's beautiful!'

She picked up the small gold chain with the obviously expensive pink pearl hanging from it.

'You spoil me, you know that?' Hermione said uneasily. Presents made her uncomfortable.

'Well no one deserves it more than you. May I?' Hugh flashed his brilliant smile at her.

'Of course.'

His rough hands swept back her shiny long hair. The bushiness had left her head long ago, leaving soft waves and curls in its place.

She felt his presence on her neck until he stopped. 'There, all done.'

'How does it look?' she said, flashing him a sweet smile.

'Beautiful. Well, it would look better if you hadn't just rolled out of bed.' He laughed and raised a hand to her face.

'Mmhmm…' Hermione smiled weakly and avoided his eyes. The necklace around her neck was feeling unusually heavy.

'So,' Hugh said, taking a seat on the bed. 'You want to go to dinner with me tonight?'

'Oh, Hugh, I wish I could. But I promised Doctor Lansing I'd work the late shift. And then, well – I wanted to have some time to myself.'

He stood up suddenly. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, maybe do some shopping – visit some friends…'

'So you have time to do that, but you can't go to dinner with me?' His eyes flashed dangerously.

'I-It's not that,' she stared intently at the floor. 'My shift will end at seven, I think, and then I can't-'

'Of course you can! Are you saying that your friends are more important than me?' She winced. She didn't need a row this early in the morning.

'Hugh, no. Don't worry about it… I'll be home by nine.'

'You are going to be out for two hours after you finish your shift? Why do you do this? You always make things so complicated. You never can tell me anything when I ask you.'

'That's not true…' Again, Hermione found herself staring at her feet.

'Yes it is! I'm marrying you, and I still wonder who in hell you are. Where did you grow up? Where did you go to school? And _why_ did you move to the States?'

Tears rose to her eyes and prickled her skin. _The words still sting. Even after all these years. _

'Hugh, really, can we not talk about it… those things don't matter. It's nothing.' _At least nothing I can tell you about…_

'Honestly,' His voice was aggressive. 'Don't be such a bitch. What do you have to hide?'

'I'm not hiding anything. All that matters is us…now… Hugh, please –'

'Goddamn you! You are wearing my ring; you are living in my house. Can't you show any appreciation?'

A keepsake-anger that bubbled inside her was hard to control. 'You don't own me, Hugh. Please. This is my business.' Wrong thing to say. He looked at her so angrily she was scared that he would hit her. Again.

As much as she tried to forget about it, the reality was never far from the surface of her mind.

But so what? So what if he raised his hand to her sometimes. Everyone needed to sacrifice. She chose to stay where she was. At least she would be taken care of. And he said he loved her. She was marrying him. She loved him, too. Right?

But what was love?

Hermione didn't know if she'd ever really loved anyone. She started to whimper, and she hated herself for it.

'Sorry, I didn't mean –' she lamely said, and his voice got soft again.

'It's just, you… are so strange sometimes, Hermione, and I just want to know you. Now, can you come to dinner with me?' She knew it as a command, not a request.

Hermione looked with as much gentleness that she had left. 'Hugh – I promised Doctor Lansing I'd-'

'That you'd work late. I _know_ Hermione! I'm asking you to change your plans. You are spending the night with me.'

'But I c-can't just cancel… trust me, Hugh, understand –'

He stood up quickly and struck her across the face. Hermione fell against the fall, defeated. A single tear rolled down her cheek but she remained completely silent.

'Don't talk to me about understanding. I understand that you won't even try to spend some time with the man you are about to marry.'

A sob escaped her chapped lips. 'I-I'll go to dinner with you.'

The devilish smile returned to his face. 'What was that?'

Hermione took a deep, shaky breath. 'I said... I'll go to dinner with you.' She gave him a small smile.

He grabbed her chin and raised her face to his. He kissed her softly. 'Good to hear. I'll see you tonight at _Arabelle_ around seven thirty. Have a good day at the hospital, Honey.'

He picket up his jacket and walked out of the huge New York flat like nothing had happened.

Her eyes continued to tear as her hand went to her cheek and sighed. This was just the typical morning. She gazed down at the necklace hanging from her neck. It really was beautiful. Just like the last one he gave her. And the one before that. Not to mention the one he bought for her the first day she arrived in the city.

Her eyes went to the dresser drawer that held her wand.

How long had it been since she'd used any magic? Six years?

_Too long. _A voice inside of her head whispered.

She scolded herself. She was supposed to forget about all that rubbish.

Merlin knows she tried.

Hermione glanced at the supposed happy pictures on the dresser and set them down. She couldn't look at them any longer.

The clock alarm rang. 6:30. 'Oh, bugger,' she said under her breath. She was expected at work in half an hour. She slipped out of her nightgown and into the shower.

Needless to what she thought of herself, Hermione had grown to be a gorgeous witch.

Flawless, sunkissed skin covered a trim hourglass figure that she'd maintained since seventh year. When she _really _smiled, she glowed. Her eyes shone with emotion, and while she always wondered whether she really had grown into her teeth, she captured men's attention. Not that she ever tried.

She stopped worrying about her love life. Ever since…

Him.

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower with a fuzzy towel around her. Sometimes she thought about him. His smile. His eyes. His love.

Her fear.

And sometimes she thought about why she ran away. But those thoughts were nonsense. She knew.

Hermione swore that she would try to forget about him. But did she want to?

'_No.' _

But that didn't mean she_ loved_ him. Just because she memorized his laugh and thought about how his hair never really laid flat at the back didn't mean she loved him. Just because she imagined he was here so she would never be lonely didn't mean she loved him. _Just because she saw his face when she kissed Hugh didn't mean she loved him._

No. Hermione Granger refused to give into something as delicate as love. Especially now.

She buttoned up her jacket and looked in the mirror. She wondered how she got to be this way. She used to be so naïve. So carefree.

The alarm clock went off again. She was never good with electricity. 6:56.

Damn. There was no way she could get to the hospital in four minutes.

The most acclaimed Healer and the most famous witch in the wizarding world worked as a Muggle doctor? She couldn't imagine what she'd tell them if the people back home found out. But it was true. Dr. Granger. Ha!

_You could always Apparate to the hospital… _said that voice inside her head that she cursed.

But she knew she couldn't _Apparate_. If she did any magic the Ministry would find her.

_He _would find her.

She desperately hoped they already didn't know where she was. But she trusted her secret keeper.

No one would guess that she chose Draco Malfoy as her secret keeper. But he trusted her and he was the only one she could think of… everyone else was too… and…

She took the small pad that she always kept by the phone and wrote a small apology note to Hugh, though she wasn't sure why, and made her way down to the car Hugh gave her for one of their anniversaries. Who could keep track of them all?

Hermione didn't know much about her life anymore.

Except…

She would give anything to be that young, naïve witch again.

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**A/N: Mehhhh. So what did you all think? Please _please_ review because I will love you forever. Sorry I didn't update sooner, but I was away from home for awhile. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Much love. **

**Next up is Chapter Two: **

_He spent days searching for her; sometimes he'd feel her hand on his shoulder, her cheek on his lips, her breath on his ear. _

_Then, after awhile, he just got used to eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone… _

Being_ alone. _

**Next chapter is one of my favorites :). See you thennn. **

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	3. Two

**Where I Belong  
Chapter Two; Evergreen**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters belong to JK Rowling.**

**Quote belongs to whoever wrote the Unchained Melody.  
****All plots and other characters belong to me.  
Harry and Hermione belong to each other.  
****Thank you to all who reviewed, it means more then you know. **

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Oh, my love, my darling  
I've hungered for your touch  
A long, lonely time  
And time goes by so slowly  
And time can do so much  
Are you still mine? 

- Unchained Melody, Elvis Presley

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Harry wondered whether or not the sixth years in his class were really interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts at all, or if they were just taking the class because he was teaching it.

The Famous Harry Potter? Not Minister of Magic, not some acclaimed Auror, not a famous Quidditch player, but a teacher?

It was true. After the Final War, he could use something normal in his life.

He had been offered the position of Minister of Magic at least a hundred times, it seemed. But if staying at Hogwarts was good enough for Dumbledore, it was good enough for him.

'Uhhhh…that's it for today. Class dismissed.'

The sound of shuffling students broke the gaze of the six or seven girls staring at Harry.

'Okay, ladies. Off to your next class,' he told them calmly, which earned him blushes and giggles as the girls scurried away.

Harry sighed and brushed some messy hair out of his eyes. It seemed like there was a group in every class, girls that knew more about Harry's eye colour then about Hinkypunks.

It didn't really bother him, though.

Not that he would really think about snogging any of his students. He took his job very seriously.

The whole thrill of girls left Harry a long time ago.

Unless it was Hermione, he simply wasn't interested.

Harry sat behind his desk and gazed into the waving pictures of Sirius, Dumbledore, his parents; all people he lost because of Voldemort.

It seemed he lost everyone he loved.

Sirius because of Bellatrix, Dumbledore because of Snape, his parents because of Voldemort, and Hermione…

Because of him.

When she first disappeared, he swore he was going mad.

He spent days searching for her; sometimes he'd feel her hand on his shoulder, her cheek on his lips, her breath on his ear.

Then, after awhile, he just got used to eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone…

_Being_ alone.

But even now, questions haunted him in his sleep.

Where was she?

Was she okay?

Did she remember him at all?

Did she ever think about him the way that he thought about her?

'_If I could see you one more time, I'd tell you what I didn't know then. I'd tell you what I never got a chance to say…'_

She just…left. Without a word. He thought he knew Hermione.

All he knew now was that Draco was her secret keeper. Ginny too, probably.

And Malfoy, however much Harry denied it, was damn loyal.

Ron tried to be there as his best mate, but even _he_ couldn't fill the Hermione – sized hole in his heart. They were so young, to think-

'Potter?'

His head whipped around as he tried to flatten his hair and the creases in his shirt.

'Hello, Headmistress.'

McGonagall looked at him from her aging face. Her mouth was set in a grim line across her face.

'What do you need, Professor?'

'Potter, I'm afraid that I've received more complaints and requests that you be removed from your post here at Hogwarts. And frankly, I'm tired of coming up with reasons why you should stay.'

Harry sighed and readjusted his glasses.

When he first applied for the post there had been a lot of angry letters from parents. Complaining; stating it would be unsafe to let someone who, well, someone like him, teach.

Even though the war had ended six years ago, there were still a lot of angry Death Eater groups trying to do Harry in. He'd destroyed their master, after all.

Most of them were empty threats, but Harry still kept a close watch on everyone he cared about.

'Look, Headmistress, I love this job. I love the kids. I love Hogwarts, it's my home. I love teaching. Don't make me leave.'

He gave McGonagall a pleading look from his deep set green eyes.

'Well, I suppose, Potter. But if I get one more owl delivering me outraged letters or angry Howlers…something will have to be done.'

'I understand,' Harry said uneasily.

McGonagall gave Harry a look of pity before exiting the classroom, her robes fluttering behind her.

Harry slumped back into his chair.

It's not that he _needed_ this job.

No, it wasn't about the money. The small fortune his parents left him was more then he'd ever need.

He kept the job for his sanity.

He knew that without somewhere to be every morning he would just stay in bed, wasting away, until Ron came in and dragged him to a Quidditch game or something of the lot.

Then it would be back to bed to be alone with his thoughts…

Torturing himself by replying Hermione's laugh, her smile and her face over and over again in his mind.

At least with this job he had a purpose. A life.

But an empty one.

He covered his eyes with his hands.

_Hermione… my Hermione. How did I ever let you get so far away from me?_

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**AN:  
****SORRY for the lack of updates. Life has been... busy.  
But here it is, chapter two. I liked this better when I first wrote it... to be honest. But hopefully all of you don't think it sucks. :)**

As for next time...

**Teaser:  
**_His drunk hands fumbled with the zipper of her black dress and she moved her hands frantically to stop him. 'Don't fight back,' he said angrily as he hit her face against the wall._

**Dundundun... Until then. Au revoir. **


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